Chapter Four: The Spirits

We’ve already been enrolled in our classes. It appears that the people here have some sort of plan for us. We arrived right on time, though whether that’s due to luck or more careful planning gone on behind our backs, I don’t yet know. But no matter what the reason, a new term appears to be just now starting. I’m sitting in a class called “empathy: how to read minds without magic.” It appears, so far, to be a very stupid class, but far from useless. Anyway, I’m bored, and I’ve always enjoyed learning, so I’ve decided to learn this. Reading people, I’ve told myself, is a very vampiric skill. I’m not turning soft, somehow, by taking empathy classes.

There are several other vampires in my class, and I know why they’re here. This place has a blood donation system, where you can pay for your tuition by giving a reasonable amount of blood, which the vampires buy from the campus stores. So now, here, we vampires no longer have to kill to survive. But most vamps learn within the first 10 years to feel nothing for anyone, incase they someday kill them. So they need to re-train their empathy circuits. I haven’t gotten that far, not by a long shot, even though Tanda was a great teacher. Tanda… Thinking that name still hurts. He was training me, teaching me to be a proper vampire. He’s only dead for a day, and look at the situation I get myself into. Spirit Guides Academy, empathy classes, Ex-Hunters…

I thought I didn’t belong here, but I’m beginning to find out how much I really do. This place is full of magic and the undead. To top that off, it’s a center of the local branch of a government I didn’t even know existed. A government that creates prophecies… And Gwen and I are a part of them? I tried to ask Santa about it, but after that one slip up, she refused to tell me anything more.

Classes have been going for several days now, and I’m really falling into the swing of things. The busier I am, the less I think about how displaced I am, how fast things are changing, how dead Tanda still is. Mainly, I think it’s Gwen who’s been a pillar of strength for me, though I’d never tell him that. He’s all that keeps me from crying for hours in my vampire bed. The academy is nice, though. Lots of dark corners, twists and turns. It was really built with gothic sensibilities. It’s a nice enough place to spend a couple years.

Class is letting out, so I stand up, weaving through the crowds. I had a meal only yesterday, so I’m not hungry. I have to eat almost every week to keep life simple with so many humans around. It’s strange, though, to pass some stranger and realize that you had their blood for breakfast. The crowds thin once I pass the door, though, and I wander out onto the lawn. I check to make sure that I’ve still got the note in my pocket. I asked professor Murphy where I might find out more about prophecies, and he told me to try the druids, that they’re pretty involved. Maybe if they don’t know who I am, they’ll let something slip.

I unravel the crumpled paper and read that the druids are meeting in the heron room of the main student building. The rooms, as you may be able to guess, are all named, inexplicably, after birds. It seems more practical to number them, so that maybe you don’t have to read every one just to find the one you want. I walk past the hawk room, the starling room, the crane room, and the crow room before finding the heron room and knocking on the door. Nothing happens for a moment, and I reach up to knock again, but it swings open.

“Hi.” I find myself surrounded by curious faces, green hair, leaves, and vines of all sorts. I’ve found the druids, it appears.

“Hi.” I reply, though I’m not sure which one spoke.

“Hey!” This time it’s a youth with dark brown skin and pale green eyes. He’s fairly athletic looking, and there are paint stripes on his face.

“You’re not a druid.” This time, it’s a golden haired girl.

“No, I’m not.” I say, dryly stating the obvious. Compared to these nature freaks, I’m fairly modern, which is saying a lot, considering that my style of dress is verging on medieval vampire Goth. But these guys are all in leaves and natural fiber hand woven loose-fitting clothing, when they wear any at all. “I came here to ask about the prophecies. I was told that you’d know.” They start nodding in unison.

“We know.” One of them says.

“In fact,” Says another, “We were just about to start the ritual.”

“Explain the ritual, silly!” The dark skinned guy admonishes, and another druid steps forward. To my surprise, she’s a vampire. An ancient one, too, by the looks of it. She raises her hand up, and silence falls in the group of chattering druids. Well, mostly, at least. The silence becomes complete when she begins to talk.

“We’re performing a simple ritual now, but it is what we exist for. It’s our part in maintaining the prophecies. We are supporting the spirits.” I’m not quite sure what that means, but luckily she continues. “The elemental spirits are one of many groups out to complete the most prophecies. There’s a bit of a competition going between the groups, right now. Prophecy fulfilling is dangerous, challenging, and addictive. There are questers at every one of the academies, and they’re in constant competition. Our group is called Daemone, and it consists of four elemental spirit questers, and us druids. We use our magic to call them into reality.” She pronounces the name “Die-moan-ie.” This makes sense, I realize. Stiff competition between adventure seekers is fulfilling the prophecies. The harder the prophecy, the more advanced the groups seeking to fulfill it! It’s pure genius.

“Well, what can you tell me about… the most current major prophecy?” I ask, cautiously. It would really help if I had even a name to go on, so I could pretend I know what I’m talking about, but I don’t.

“Oh, you know about that?” The vampire laughs, and I laugh a little in return.

“Oh, yeah. I sure do.” I say, faking as much cheerfulness as I can. It’s a little sickening, but I can act when I need to.

“Well that’s a surprise.” She smirks at me. “Because it’s supposed to be a secret from you. Where did you hear the prophecies mentioned, Marienne?”

…

The second I met Mari I had her pegged as strange, and I haven’t been disillusioned on this point yet. When I first saw her, she was crying in an underage club. And while underage clubs are a great place to meet urban predators, dead or living, I’d never seen a vampire in that place actually crying. She probably thought no one could see her, and it’s likely true. Certainly she couldn’t be heard. But I can sense the once dead the same way I sense the living, and I knew exactly who was in the room the second I walked in.

And ever since I pushed myself into that tiny space, there had been a link created. A link that, though forged so instantly, had proved to be unbreakable. It was strange, knowing Mari, but I’m pretty sure that at this point we count as best friends. As I said, though, that sounds strange. I mean, we don’t gush and giggle and braid each other’s hair. But there’s truth beyond the cliché that the term best friends brings to mind. It’s so much easier to deal with everything changing on you if someone is there with you. Of course, I don’t personally mind the change. It’s something interesting, and the last 10 years have been so boring… This is almost refreshing.

I’ve just gotten out of class when Mari waves me over. “Hey, Gwen!” She calls. Yeah, that’s what she nicknamed me. There was a time when people were too in awe when they saw me to call me by anything but my full name, Evan Gwenned. Now it’s Gwen. How the great have fallen. But then again, once you die you basically mean nothing. Your life’s work is over, and there’s no point anymore. It bugs me, though, since life is much shorter than death. Maybe I will have a death’s purpose, but I haven’t found it yet.

“Mari.” I say, stepping up next to her. I must say that she’s cute, and she pulls off the Goth well. She’s dressed up for the occasion (school), in a Japanese style school uniform, short skirted and dark grey with a black tie and tall, lace edged black socks coming up to her knees. She has her hair curled, too, and woven through with red ribbons. As I get to know her, I get the feeling that Mari is quite sillier than she pretends to be. But I also get the feeling that she’s more depressed than she lets on.

“So, I talked to Mr. Murphy, and I’ve got some tips.” She deadpans, pushing a crumpled note into my hand. I unravel it.

“The Yellow Room.” I say.

“Yeah.” Mari answers. “They all have these stupid themes…”

“I noticed.” I answer, and we share a short chuckle that, had we no image to preserve, would have become a hearty laugh, I’m sure.

“Why did you hand me a note saying The Yellow Room?” I clarify my question.

“You take the spirits, I’ll take the druids.” She tells me, and without further explanation, walks off. I’m pretty certain that this has something to do with the prophecy, though, so I take the note and head for the Yellow room.

I find the yellow room pretty easily. It’s painted yellow. I let go of all the tension I’ve been holding onto and melt into the door, coming out on the other side invisibly, and for a moment wonder if I have the right room.

At first, it appears to be entirely empty, but then I see the girl I met on my first day, Cassia, sitting in a chair in the corner. I start, though there’s no way she can see me, and human senses, though trainable, wouldn’t be able to sense me here. I turn away to see what she seems to be staring interestedly at, and suddenly the room seems to snap into relief, as if I had just put on the spectacles I had to wear when I was alive. There are people in the room.

No, not people. Like Mari said, Spirits. There are four of them, which is a reasonable number, considering that there are four magical elements in the classic model. I say magical elements because these are elements in a more mystical sense, not like the ones on the periodic table, though they too have their own spirits. But these were the classic four: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.

It was pretty easy to tell them apart. Earth was a dark, glowing mahogany, with crazy black hair and an old pair of jeans on, and not much else but a jeweled necklace. Next to him sits a young girl who can only be Fire. She looks about six, with pale hair made of what appears to be flames frozen in time. They still move though, just very slowly, and they’re less red and paler blue and orange. She’s got silver eyes and a dress of silk tie dyed in patterns of red and orange. It looks like it would flare well if she was to spin, but she just sits next to Earth. Next to fire is wind. She’s tall and golden haired, and looks rather angelic, until you see the look in her eyes. It’s obvious that battle is a large part of her life. The last person in the row is Water. He’s short and lithe, with a short spray of dark black hair and dark green eyes. He looks like he’s going to float off any moment now. I just hope he does, because then there’d be one less person staring at me.

I give it up and become visible. Cassia turns around, facing me.

“You were right!” She exclaims in surprise. “Hello, Evan.” I sigh.

“Mari sent me here.” I say, as if that explains everything. Apparently, it does, because she nods.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, Evan.” It sounds strange now, my name. I sigh.

“Just call me Gwen.” I say, and she laughs. Even her laugh sounds serious to me. She is living for a purpose. I can’t live for a purpose. I can’t live for a purpose, I can’t even live.

“You’re really wrapped around her finger, aren’t you?” She asks me. I nod, unashamed.

“Yeah, but only by choice, I assure you.” She smiles, and the silence goes on for a moment longer.

“So, what can you tell me?” I ask her, hoping for a few details at least.

…

“So, what’d you get?” I ask him, once dawn has broken and we’re stranded under the shelter of my curtained bed.

“Not much.” He replies. “Cassia was there, though.” In surprise, I raise my eyes up from their comfortable perch on my shoes.

“She was, was she?” He nods.

“Yeah. She couldn’t see me, but the spirits can. They told me in detail about how they go about fulfilling prophecies, but nothing on the specific ones that are about us. Apparently, we’re really not supposed to know. They were really good about not letting anything slip, though they had to shut Cassia up.”

“Santa.” I say, in a bad mood all of a sudden. Gwen laughs.

“Oh, yeah, I remember. I’d forgotten about that.” I don’t catch the laughter, though, just sigh.

“Well, just remember this time.” I tell him, and he nods.

“Will do, Mari.” I let a tiny smile escape, but shove it back in.

Never let the mask slip, Marienne. Never let it fall. You have no friends to whom you are more than Vampire. You are only Vampire. Sharon Empress… is dead.

I control my features, deadpan like Tanda taught me. The only smile a vampire smiles is a mocking smile, that smile right before they bite… Gwen, luckily, will never get to see that again, at least not directly.

“I met a vampire.” I tell him, and he nods.

“Cool.” He says, not surprised. The place is swarming with vampires. I’m far from alone.

“She told me that if she explained the prophecy, it would still be fulfilled, but I would beg her to take it away and let me go through it unknowing. I wish that she hadn’t said that, it really creeped me out.” I say.

“So, we’re giving up then?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“No way. I’m far too curious. And anyway, I’m not scared.”

“Well then, lets figure it out!” Gwen says, grinning. I nod.

“Lets.”

AN: I’m so sorry I’m so very, very late with this. More that a week! God, I’m evil. But I was busy, and my inspiration died… Anyway, thank you for your kind reviews! I’m so happy at the response this is getting! Tune in next week for more of the adventures of Mari and Gwen, in the… Pure Fluff Chapter! Coming up!

Love,
TRW